


lazy

by Magali_Dragon



Series: one shots and other drabbles [16]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuties, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Jon and Dany social distancing, Lazy Mornings, No Plot/Plotless, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Dany and Jon on a lazy morning, on a lazy day, and feeling lazy after sharing some happy news.**originallly a one-shot, now with bonus chapter 2, 3, two moodboards, and a special little pic at the end**
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Series: one shots and other drabbles [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567705
Comments: 162
Kudos: 646





	1. lazy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and Dany are behaving rather lazily. 
> 
> Moodboard by the incredibly sweet @youwerenevermine on Tumblr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I finally wrote the world's real-life quarantine into a Jonerys fic. Only took forever.
> 
> Also, this is just nothing but fluff, I'm working out kinks as I work on other longer fics. Also, what is with this tag lately? Suppose this is my attempt to cleanse the tag, bring back some more actual Jonerys and not the troll bait that has been wandering around lately.

The sun was hurting her eyes, what little of it peeked through the blinds to slash across her face. She blinked quickly against the pain, adjusting to the brightness, but made no move to get up. Her arms tightened around her pillow, sighing into it and staring ahead. The nightstand to her right held her cup of water, glasses, phone, and a stack of books plus her iPad. There was a tuft of cat hair sitting atop the books, suggesting that she had had a stalker sometime in the night staring at her. No doubt demanding she get up.

She fumbled for her phone, taking a peek at the time, and yawned. The days just seemed to blend together lately. It was _Sunday_? But _how?_ Last she checked it was Thursday. “Noon?” she mumbled, wrinkling her nose. _Slept half the day away._ Not that that was a bad thing. Yesterday she had been awake insanely early, mostly because her boyfriend still insisted on getting up at an ungodsly early time to go for a run.

The mattress shifted, her covers pulling a bit at her shoulder. She glanced sideways, smirking to see that Sundays still meant he could sleep in, unless he’d already gone for a run and then climbed back into bed with her. _Entirely possible._ She mumbled nothing in the back of her throat, turning to wrap her arms around him, pressing a kiss between his bare shoulders. He grumbled into his pillow, shifting again, feet tangling with hers.

She hissed—they were freezing! “Hmm, you awake?” she mumbled into the back of his neck, pressing another kiss to the muscle that twitched along his shoulder-blade. His dark hair was a rat’s nest, tangled about his head, preventing her from seeing if he had opened his eyes. She pressed up against him, sighing at the feeling of his delightful ass pushing backwards against the juncture of her thighs. She moaned softly. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

He rolled over, eyes still closed, but a smile flirting on his lips. “And when have I ever done that?” he whispered; voice raspy. His eyelids blinked open, revealing the gray irises hidden beneath. Pupils narrowed, focusing on her, he reached a strong arm around under the blankets to drape over the rise of her hip, pulling her against him. She shrugged, too tired and sleepy and drugged up on the lazy feeling of being with him to answer; instead, she rested her lips lightly on his, just the mere brush, suggestion of a kiss.

He pressed a little harder against her mouth, lips soft but firm as they both deepened the kiss, tongues sliding luxuriously against the other, sweeping against each other. An exhale from him, in a groan, tickled strands of hair falling out of her braid back over her cheeks and she sighed again, her arms snaking over his neck. Her hand slid around to brush against his jaw, his dark beard scratching the soft skin of her palm.

As he began to push his hands under the t-shirt she wore, the mattress suddenly gave a loud squeak, bouncing hard beneath them and tearing them apart in surprise. “Oh!” she gasped, laughing at their massive snow-white wolf-hybrid holding his ‘baby’—a ratty stag toy he’d had since he was a pup—in his jaws, a low whine emanating from his throat. She reached behind her for a pillow, lightly tossing it at him, laughing. “Ghost!”

“Get off you brute,” Jon complained, trying to push the almost two-hundred pound monster off the bed with a weak arm, but Ghost just spat his drool-covered toy onto his father’s chest, tail wagging so hard that the bed kept squeaking with the movement of the wolf’s trembling. He turned his head, groaning into the crook of her neck as she giggled. “Remind me why I still keep him?”

“Because he’s a precious baby.”

“Hmm, is that a reason?”

She nudged him, kissing his nose and smiling. “Come on, it isn’t like we don’t have time. I’ll make it worth your while later.”

“Holding you to that.”

It didn’t really matter anyway, as their lie-in had not only thrown Ghost off his schedule—it was time for his midday walk and tug-of-war—but also Dany’s cat Drogon, who had decided that since she clearly didn’t wake up earlier from when he’d been staring at her or poking at her, he should go into the study and knock over everything from the desks, including her laptop, which she was grateful had been closed already. “Drogon!” she complained.

Her fluffy black and reddish cat just glared at her with his lamp-like yellow eyes, clearly disgusted in her. He flicked his poker-brush tail and hissed. “Get on then,” Jon said to the cat, swiping at him as the furball jumped off the table and pranced away. He rolled his eyes. “He is so spoiled.”

“He’s my baby.”

“He’s an arsehole.”

“He’s going to pee in your running shoes, just watch,” she warned Jon. The two had a very contentious relationship since they moved in together several months ago. Drogon really did not care for Jon and while the feeling wasn’t mutual, she really loved how Jon tolerated and put up with her ornery little dragon.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him yawning, rummaging with the coffee even though it was midday. He had put on his glasses, instead of contacts. She sidled up beside him, nudging at his shoulder. He idly kissed her temple while he measured out the beans. “You’re not going to put your contacts in?” she asked. Not that she minded; he was quite adorable with his glasses. The black horned rims suited him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I’m running low and I don’t feel like ordering any right now.”

“Good.” She nibbled on his earlobe, throatily chuckling into his ear, and delighted in his shiver. “I like the glasses more.”

A low growl in the back of his throat encouraged her to move her nibbles along his throat, but then another growl—from her stomach—broke their heated kisses. He laughed, swiftly kissing her one more time. “Guess I should feed you.”

“Yes,” she giggled. She pushed by him, wondering what smelled bad and a quick whiff of her t-shirt told her it was her. She made a face, jogging up the stairs of their small cottage to their room, and tossed the shirt in the overflowing laundry hamper. It might be time, she figured, as she rummaged for a replacement. Except all she’d been wearing of late were his clothes and Jon didn’t have much beyond black and white t-shirts. She grabbed an old Winterfell Wolves football jersey, slipping it on and slipped to the bathroom.

Freshly brushed teeth and braided hair later, she returned to the kitchen, where he’d already poured her a cup of tea, knowing she preferred it to coffee. She pounced on the cup. “My hero!”

Except, she didn’t think that he’d put in enough sugar, so she moved back to the counter. Jon poured Drogon his kibbles, the cat swiping at his hand when he didn’t double up on the amount like Dany usually did. He glanced over at her, adjusting her tea. “What? You don’t trust me that I did it right?”

“Sorry, I can’t trust anyone that looks good with a bed head.”

She spun around, lifting the cup to her lips, grinning. Jon’s bed head was indistinguishable from his usual tangle of curls. He rolled his eyes, finishing with the cat and then opened the back door for Ghost, who rushed back in. She frowned, shaking her head at the doggy door they’d had installed. It had to be special because of Ghost’s gigantic size. “Why doesn’t he use it, you think?”

“Well he didn’t use it earlier because he’d dragged all throw blankets and his pillow bed through the opening last night.”

“Oh.”

Jon ran his fingers through his hair and picked up his coffee cup. He glanced at the oven clock. “Cannot believe we slept as late as we did.”

“Hmm, guess we needed sleep.”

“Not like we’ve been doing much the last couple weeks.”

Dany picked up his phone, which he always left downstairs to charge, tapping in his password—her birthday—and followed him into the living room. They curled up on the couch, Jon leaning back and picking up the book he’d been reading the night before, legs stretched out in front of him. She leaned against his chest, while one of his arms went around her shoulders and her feet lifted up, knees raised as she tapped away on his phone, checking the latest news.

It had been really nice actually, this whole _social distancing_ thing. Gave them time to work on their house, distance themselves from toxic family and friends, and figure out what was really important. In her case, she was quite glad they didn’t have to see Jon’s irritating cousins for the family’s weekly Friday-night dinner. In Jon’s case, she knew he was grateful that in terms of his work, he finally got some time off from dealing with the insanity that was the Night’s Watch. Per the Westerosi military’s guidelines, the special forces unit was not as _essential_ as they liked to think they were. He was on a rotating schedule anyway and was off for four weeks before he would suit up and head back to the front lines to assist with this whole quarantine thing that Westeros found themselves in, courtesy of a novel virus from Essos that had brought the impatient and ignorant Westerosis to their knees.

Well, more like the North. Those fools thought they were invincible and courtesy of their inept government, they were lagging behind the rest of the continent on containment and treatment. Dany remained quiet on it, but inside she was gloating that Jon finally got a chance to say _”Ha! Told you so!_ ” to his fool cousin Sansa, who worked for the Northern majority government that had been in denial.

She could work from home, but it was hard. She missed her students. Conference calling them wasn’t the same. It was hard to be a teacher when you were trying to shape little minds via a 13-inch laptop screen. She yawned, grateful at least that it was something akin to a weekend. She would prepare some lessons later, but right now she was content to sit with Jon.

His fingers idly traced along the edge of the football jersey’s ribbed sleeve, occasionally dancing along the skin of her upper arm. She settled closer to him, savoring the warmth seeping from his solid body beneath hers. The news did not tell her anything new, so she switched over to the e-book app, finding the book she’d been reading the night before and started back up.

Ghost hopped onto the couch next to her and she smiled, curling her toes into the soft fur of his belly, using him as a pseudo-blanket. He hummed in contentment, his red eyes closing and a huff of warm breath leaving his black nose as he fell into his afternoon nap. “Must be nice to be a dog,” she mused.

“I think we’ve basically become dogs. We sleep and eat all day.”

“Yes, but you still go on your morning runs.” She sipped her tea, glancing at the dust accumulating along the fireplace mantle. “We should clean later.”

“Alright.”

“And we need to do laundry.”

Jon made a sound that she assumed was an agreement, turning the page in his book. He did not move to get up though. She didn’t either. He read and she fiddled with his phone. At some point, he tossed his book back onto the side table and leaned farther into the soft couch, legs stretching even further out. He closed his eyes. She glanced up, smirking, but said nothing.

Drogon hopped up behind them, pawing at Jon’s hair. “Leave it alone,” Jon mumbled, not opening his eyes. The cat made a hissing sound and swiped at a curl, but agreed, dancing down to take a perch at the end of the couch, staring at them all. No doubt plotting something, Dany thought, blowing a kiss to her little dragon. He closed his eyes slowly, blinking at her in the kitty version of ‘I love you.’

A text appeared on Jon’s screen, from his friend Sam. _When are you going to do it?_

She frowned, tapping back. _Do what?_

_Seriously? Ask D.!_

_D_? That had to be in reference to her. She chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should keep playing pretend or hand the phone over to Jon. He was fast asleep under her, his breath deep and steady under her. She slouched down, head in the crook of his arm. She pursed her lips. _Finding the right time_

_You both are stuck in same house for a month. There’s never a better time to propose._

Her stomach jumped into her throat, eyes widening. _Propose!_ She tried to stifle a squeal, but Jon heard her, shifting. “You okay?”

“Hmm. Fine.” She quickly deleted the texts. “Um, I think Sam is texting you.”

“Oh. I’ll reply later.” He took the phone from her, dropping it onto his book. He tugged her closer, sighing and nuzzling her neck. “Just want to be with you. No one else.”

 _Me too._ She moved backwards into his lap, his arms enveloping her against him, and she rested her hands on his wrists, tilting her cheek up for his soft kisses. “This last month with you has been nice,” she murmured. She lifted her brows, wryly. “Even if it’s been government-mandated.”

He smiled, the one that was reserved only for her, the steel of his eyes softening to molten iron, the corners crinkling. He never really pulled back his lips to show his teeth unless he was laughing, but with her he did. She touched under his glasses, to one of the scars that crossed over his left eye. He took her hand, kissing her palm. It was her left hand. He squeezed it tight, index finger dragging along her left ring finger. “You know,” he murmured. He shifted, a little nervous. “How long have we been together now?”

“Few years.” Seemed like longer. They’d been friends before they hooked up. She met him through her friend Missandei, a translator who had contracted to the Night’s Watch. She hadn’t intended on being friends first, but he was so daft and awkward, it took a few months before he got the courage—or the awareness—that she actually _liked_ him.

“Hmm…” He kissed the back of her neck, chin dropping to her shoulder. His voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you.”

She smiled, lips pulling back to almost split her face. It didn’t matter, she thought, when or if he would propose. It wasn’t something they’d really discussed, but it was inevitable. Like how one day they would have children—wasn’t like they were preventing it anyway—like they were going to move in together, like they were going to fall in love, and like they were going to become more than friends. It just followed its own, rather lazy course.

A heavy sigh left Ghost, his eyes opening and fixing on her, ruby red against his pristine coat. “Come here,” she cooed, laughing as the dog that she had first met as a pup and was now almost twice her size, jumped up and moved to lay between her legs, patting his front paws on her shoulders and licking her face. “Ghost!”

“You mangy oaf,” Jon mumbled, but pushed lovingly at the wolf. He waved his hand. “Go to your bed. Go on now.”

“What’d you do that for?”

“Because I have plans for you and he doesn’t need to see them.”

Drogon made a hiss of disgust, swishing his tail and jumping off the couch, leaving the living room with the same haughty manner with which he had joined them, like he owned the place. He casually kicked at Ghost’s bed, which had the wolf jumping up and snapping at him, the two of them immediately beginning a rousing game of chase, except at some point it was Ghost running from Drogon.

Neither of them paid the _children_ mind, because Dany was enjoying the feel of Jon’s knuckles lightly stroking her bare thigh and she was cuddling against his chest, knowing he loved the scent of her shampoo—even if it was a bit faint that afternoon. She closed her eyes and smiled, moving her hand backwards to snatch at the phone. “Why don’t you go get your own phone?” he mumbled.

She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “It’s upstairs, too far away.”

“Don’t take too long. Remember, I have plans.”

She smiled, knowing that his plans involved no clothing and the bed. “We’ve got time,” she murmured, flicking through his photo reel, seeing all the pictures she had taken—she really did forget her phone a lot.

After about an hour, just lying on the couch together, with him dozing and her reading or playing a game or two, she finally set the phone aside, patting his thigh before she squeezed it lightly over his thin sweatpants. She felt him shift, but she kept from turning. “What’re you doing?” he mumbled.

“We have to do laundry.”

“Now?”

“Well I don’t have any more clean underwear.”

That got his attention. “Soo…you’re not wearing underwear then?” he asked.

She giggled, finally turning in his arms and straddling his hips, arms dropping over his shoulders. “Nope.”

His hands fiddled with the hem of the football jersey, before slipping under to verify, which he did with his warm hands cupping her bare bottom, sending a shiver up her spine of want. The steel darkened to almost black. “Well that’s an interesting discovery,” he mused.

“So are you going to help me do the laundry?”

He shrugged. “What did you say earlier?”

“I don’t know, what did I say?” She arched her brows, expecting an answer, but all she got was him jumping from the couch, hauling her over his shoulder. She squealed, giggling and kicking her feet, the jersey falling over her face and exposing her naked body to the cool air in the house. “Jon!”

“Laundry can wait. We’ve got time.”

Dany giggled, wondering what else his _plans_ involved.

She later discovered that they included a beautiful diamond and sapphire ring he’d been hiding in his nightstand, which he decided to present her with that night as they did laundry. He claimed that while they might have all the time in the world, he didn’t want to waste any more of it.

And Dany couldn’t have agreed more, even if their days still consisted of being well, rather _lazy_.

**fin.**


	2. naptime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still in lockdown, Jon and Dany continue their lazy ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't need a second chapter but I felt like writing one for fun. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Aw fuck!”

The curse from the bathroom forced her head off the pillow, startled awake. To be honest, she was slowly coming out of the thick wrapping of dreams, her limbs tingling as she stretched, a feline-like yowl curling from her throat at the delicious pull in her arms and legs. She yawned, moving to her side, and peered to the door leading to the en-suite bathroom, which was cracked open.

Harsh fluorescent light sluiced out into the dim bedroom and the crack of the curtains indicated that it was still a bit dark out, the sun not yet awake. She fumbled backwards for her phone on the nightstand, checking it and stared at the ungodsly hour glaring at her. She groaned, but sat up anyway, arm draping over her lifted knee. “Jon?” she called, scratching her throat, which remained thick with sleep. “You alright?”

Another muffled curse. The door pushed open, Ghost walking out, looking somewhat proud of himself. He hopped onto the bed, turned three times, and settled his massive body beside her. She kissed the top of his fluffy head and scratched his ears, still awaiting a response from her fiancée. Ghost whined, his red eyes meeting hers and his tail thumping heavy over her leg. She chuckled, lifting her face again. The light flicked off and Jon came out, still wearing his sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had on his glasses. He scowled. “Tore my last contact.”

“I’m sorry.” She really wasn’t. The glasses look had been growing on her of late and she no longer wished for him to refill his contact prescription, so long as they were stuck inside together 24/7. When he went back to work he could put the contacts back in. She glanced down at Ghost, an eyebrow arching in understanding. “Dare I say that this one had something to do with it?”

“Hmm…bumped me when I went to put it in and I dropped it into the sink. Picked it up but it had torn.” He sighed, dropping a knee onto the mattress first and leaned over the wolf to reach her, his hand gripping the wrought iron bedframe for balance. He husked, wiggling his brows. “Something tells me you don’t mind.”

It was her turn to mumble contentedly, reaching up to tug on the neck of his shirt, lowering his face over hers. He dropped his other knee onto the bed, stretching out so he could kiss her properly. It was her favorite thing in the morning, kissing him. She wrinkled her nose, making a face. “You brushed your teeth. Sneak.”

“And you did not. Dragon breath.”

She huffed on him, just to be irritating and he laughed, falling to his side as she struggled to untangle herself from sheets, blankets, Ghost, and him. She stepped over him to get to the other side of the bed, her panties riding up into the crack of her ass. She moved to adjust them, but Jon took the opportunity to slap her bare cheek. She yelped, glaring back at him when she got back to her feet. “Arsehole!”

He growled, snapping his teeth. It should be illegal for him to look like that, first thing in the morning, she thought, noting his wild curls, the thick framed glasses, and his rumpled shirt and pants. _Seven hells, he doesn’t even have his shirt off._ She rolled her eyes, pushing at his foot and went into the bathroom to freshen up. Once her teeth were brushed, her face washed, and her hair tugged into another simple braid, she stepped out. It seemed Jon had gone to prepare breakfast, leaving Ghost behind.

She picked up Drogon, who had been walking by into the bathroom, peering curiously around her feet. “The toilet seat is down, you disgusting animal,” she chastised him. He had taken to trying to drink out of it like a dog lately. She kissed his squashed face, ruffling his neck and carried him out of the bedroom. “What am I going to do with you both?”

The last two months of lockdown had basically proven that the wolf and the cat could get along together if forced, but Ghost had started to become very cat-like with the way he acted—routinely knocking things over and just staring at them to see why they were angry for example. Drogon had discovered drinking from the toilet bowl was a better way to get water than from his expensive fountain she had to clean daily. She would be glad to return to a normal schedule if only for them.

The Winterfell Wolves jersey she wore had become her tried and true quarantine outfit, usually worn without any pants until midday when she would reluctantly put on leggings. Only because she could not have any sort of face-to-face call with anyone from her school district or her friends if she wasn’t wearing pants.

She was glad that the North was moving to reopen soon, but not pleased that they were rushing certain aspects of it. “So no run this morning?” she asked, seeing Jon finishing up making his coffee. The food bowls for Drogon and Ghost were already full and both of them pounced like starved strays.

“No, I’ll maybe do one later,” Jon said, pushing up his glasses on his nose. He kissed the top of her head when she cut in front of him for her mug to brew her tea. He picked up his phone, scanning through. “Arya is very upset that she had to find out about our engagement from Sansa.”

“Well I’m very upset Sansa found out from Bran.”

“And Bran found out from Sam, yeah I know.”

She made a face. “Well my friends and family can keep a secret.”

“Touche,” he grumbled. He tossed it down onto the counter, annoyed at it. He sighed, leaning against the door frame. “So what’s on tap today?”

“Same thing we do every day.”

“Try to take over the world?” he retorted.

She chuckled. “Maybe.” She pointed to the dishwasher. “That needs emptying.”

“Hmm.”

“And last I checked it was your turn.”

“Ugh.”

“And I have a class later.” She patted his stomach as she walked by with her mug. “We also need to fold laundry.”

“I feel like we just did that.”

“Because we did.” It was like laundry had somehow doubled, their house had gotten dirtier, and they really didn’t do much beyond lay on the couch, sit in the garden, or roll about in bed. They had to go to the grocery store too, she remembered. They were low on just about everything. Even though Jon _hated_ the grocery store he’d tolerate it. _For me_ , she thought with a little smile.

They took up their usual positions on the couch, Jon slouched in the corner, feet up on the ottoman, and she against his chest, knees up and drinking her tea, scrolling through her phone. He played with her hair and drank his coffee, a book on his knees. Once they finished their comfortable morning, they’d retreat upstairs, where usually a nice morning round of lovemaking would end with them in the shower.

She scanned through the texts that Missandei had sent her, her cheeks coloring at the dozens of links to bridal blogs and websites. Missandei had also demanded that later that day they were having a call to discuss her wedding dress. _NO EXCUSES_ , the all-caps text warned.

The sapphire and diamond ring glittered on her left hand. It surprised her each time she saw it, sometimes shocking her to the present. It was gorgeous, belonged to Jon’s mother. Everyone had asked her how he’d done it and when she said he just dropped to a knee in the laundry room, they thought she was joking. “Seriously?” her friend Irri had wondered. “The laundry room of all places? Not very romantic.”

“Where well else was he going to do it? Not like you can go to a fancy restaurant anymore,” Missandei had chastised.

And Jon would not have done it like that anyway. It was always going to be something simple and private. They were very simple and private people like that. If anything, Dany hadn’t expected him to really ever propose. She was fine with them remaining like they were for eternity, if necessary. They hadn’t talked about marriage. They were friends, they became a couple, bought a house and moved in together. He was her _boyfriend_ even if sometimes she thought she was too old to use that term.

All the students were going to be so happy to hear that their favorite—Miss Targaryen—was going to get married to the handsome man who came to the classroom sometimes to drop off flowers for her or to show them his big white fluffy puppy. She had even arranged a field trip earlier that school term to take them to the Wall, so he could show them the old castle and they learned about the Night’s Watch and living in a difficult environment. They just _loved_ “Mr. Jon.”

She set down her phone after a few minutes, turning to kiss the underside of his jaw. “I love you,” she said with a smile.

He barely glanced at her, absorbed in the book. “I love you too,” he replied.

Maybe there’s something wrong with us, she wondered, glancing down at the book in his lap. They had only had a few fights during the entire lockdown. She wondered if it was just because they were good about giving each other space. _Don’t go looking for something to fight about_ , she could hear Missandei warning her. They fought fine, never went to bed angry, and making up was often the only reason why they tended to fight to begin with.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye, frowning at the laundry basket. “I thought I asked you to put that away yesterday?”

“Guess I forgot.”

“Jon seriously?”

“What? I’ll get to it later.”

Sometimes he could live like a pig. She pushed to her feet, huffing. “Don’t bother.”

He looked up, blinking owlishly behind his magnified lenses. “What? You’re pissed?”

“No.”

“Seems like you’re pissed,” he said, mumbling under his breath.

She shot him a look; she hated when he did that. “Do you have something to say?”

“No, not at all,” he sang, turning the page of his book.

Dany knew what was happening; they were starting to argue. She sighed, staring at the laundry basket. She had asked him to put it away yesterday and he didn’t. It wasn’t difficult. She pushed her hands on her hips, turning to glare at him. “I would appreciate it if you actually put it away today. I don’t even know why it’s in the living room to begin with.”

“You wanted to fold towels while we watched that dumb new HBO show.”

“What dumb show?” She refused to watch any HBO show after they had killed off her favorite character in the series finale of one of her favorite shows the previous year, out of principle. It was awful. They dared to use her in marketing still, they should be ashamed.

He peered up at her, grinning. “Does it matter?”

 _Maybe not._ She rolled her eyes. He was still smiling. She hated when he did this. He was too cute sitting there in his rumpled sweats, his big glasses, and his wild curls. He was even biting down on his lip, trying hard not to laugh. She wrinkled her nose, scowling harder, if possible, her brow already furrowed to a point. “Fine. Fold them by the end of the day today.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Shut up.”

He laughed, while she stalked off to the kitchen to open the door and let Ghost out, just in time for their nosy neighbor to wave over the hedge, at her in just the football jersey. “Hello Varys,” she called, sighing at the bald man who seemed to make it his business to know everything about everyone. She closed the door and lifted the barrier so Ghost could come back in through his doggy door.

Of course, he was so spoiled he just sat and whined on the back porch until she came to get him. Drogon on the other hand decided to dart outside, which was fine because he never went far. She went inside to go change the sheets on their bed and was in the middle of adjusting the fitted sheet when she heard Jon’s scream: “Drogon! No one wants a dead squirrel!”

 _Poor squirrel_ , she laughed, as Jon no doubt had to dispose of the _present_ their little dragon thought they needed.

By the time she had on her leggings, she was ready for a nap. Sometimes doing absolutely nothing was exhausting. Jon had to take a conference call to discuss the changeover for the next team that would be on, which would be his. She felt a pang in her heart, not wanting him to leave. He’d be at the Wall for the entire week, leaving her alone with the pups. His cousin Arya had offered to come stay, but she declined. Jon’s family was… _difficult_ and she liked to limit their time as much as possible.

He finished with his call, coming into the reading nook that she had set up in an area off the sunroom, which was absolute hell to heat in the wintertime, but right now served its cozy purpose, a nice warm little area with cushy pillows, a couple bookcases with her favorite books, an old clicking radiator, and rain rattling against the window panes. She set down her lesson plans she’d been going over, reaching her hand for his. “How was the call?” she asked.

“Boring.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is.”

Jon sat down on the overstuffed loveseat next to her, which was a soft shade of pink. It suited her multicolored interior design aesthetic. Their house was all kinds of odds and ends, a mix of his preference for monochromatic grays and blacks and her desire for bright colors and patterns. He rested his head in her lap and it was her turn to play with his hair while she finished up some notes. She glanced down at him, smiling at his drooping eyelids. “You’re cute when you’re half asleep like this,” she murmured, dragging her fingertip along his upper lip, smiling when it twitched. He needed to shave; his beard was moving into _lost in the wild_ territory.

He moved his hand to squeeze her knee, which he was using as a pillow. “You put on your leggings,” he complained.

“I did. It’s after one.”

“You having drinks with Missandei?”

“She wants to, to discuss wedding plans.”

He smiled, opening one eye up at her. “I should probably not tell you then that Sansa texted me and wants to have a family Zoom call to start planning everything.”

“Ugh.” She hated that notion completely. She felt her stomach sour over it. “What did you tell her?”

“To leave us alone, just because she can’t try to control us in person doesn’t mean she can start doing it through a computer. She’s been losing it this whole time, still thinks the virus was purposefully let loose by someone from a rival government in Essos.”

“She’s fucking insane!”

“Aye.”

Dany said no more on the matter, because they had already spent a lot of time during the last two months locked away from his family discussing how toxic they really were. It seemed once Jon got out of their clutches, he was able to see just how controlling and vindictive they really were. They were also quite foul to him, using him as they saw fit. She sniffed, grateful that he was able to see them for the nasty wolves they were. Only Arya she could truly tolerate. Also Rickon, but he was so young it didn’t matter. Robb was fine when you got him away from his mother, otherwise he just did whatever Catelyn wanted.

She thought of something funny, laughing. “What’s so funny?” he murmured; his eyes now closed completely.

“Oh, just wondering how Bran is surviving.”

Jon snorted. “Not well I imagine.”

“Perhaps very well, if he managed to stock up before all this started.” His younger cousin Bran had essentially joined a cult at some point in his time Beyond the Wall and spent most of his days _communing_ with the weirwood trees, which was just code for he was high as a kite most days.

The idea of a wedding with his entire family involved turned her stomach. She wanted something small; it would be in the Winterfell godswood, since Jon was fairly observant of his religion. He would be wearing his dress uniform; she could see it now in her mind’s eye. The black uniform, with his medals gleaming, his ceremonial sword and its wolfhead pommel. Shiny black boots and black gloves and the old-fashioned black cloak with the fur ruff that went with it. She thought he was quite handsome in it.

As for her dress, well, she had no idea what to do about that. “Maybe I’ll make one,” she mumbled to herself, thinking of the sewing she had gotten into lately, for something to pass the time. She made masks for them all, for Jon to take to the guys at the Night’s Watch and to donate to the school. Maybe she and Missandei could make her dress. She liked the idea of that.

The rain picked up, battering the old windows of the little reading nook. The radiator was keeping them warm, but she wouldn’t mind moving back up to their room, with its old fireplace. They could cuddle in the thick duvet and pillows, she thought, smiling. She glanced at Jon, to suggest they go upstairs, but realized he was fast asleep. His chest rose and fell evenly and deeply. He was so peaceful in sleep.

She set aside everything beside her, reaching back over the couch for a thick blanket and draped it over them both, glancing to see Drogon had made himself comfortable at Jon’s feet. Ghost was the only one unable to fit on the couch, but he’d taken over the ottoman, stretched over and along her legs, asleep too.

 _Guess it’s naptime then_ , Dany thought with a happy sigh, cuddling down, her fingers loose in Jon’s curls, slipping easily into sleep.

**fin.**


	3. new beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon gets a surprise from their quarantine, which Dany shares to their family and friends in a cute message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo...I have a ton of crazy things going on in my life and I just wanted to write something fun and silly and mess around with some cute stuff, so this is what you get from it. I am working on the other two fics, but no idea when the next chapters will be.
> 
> Enjoy :D

* * *

"Hey! You got another package, should we buy stock in Blackwater or something?"

The call of Jon through the house reached her up in the bathroom, causing Dany to lurch to her feet and sway slightly. She was going to lose her damn mind if this kept up through the next five months. She flushed the toilet and knocked her hip against the sink, ducking her mouth under the faucet and rinsing her mouth, peering up at Jon as he emerged in the doorway. He frowned, immediately concerned, as he had been for the last couple months of her consistent morning retching.

To his adorable obliviousness, he still had no idea and completely bought her excuses about hormones and just being “under the weather.” Dany thought it rather hilarious. He had been working a lot, since the Northerners had decided to take the time during a fucking pandemic to ignore the Westerosi mandated guidelines and gather together to keep protesting for their "rights" and "independence." Apparently, they thought it their right to not wear a mask in public and infect everyone because they believed the virus to be a hoax. She was going to kill her cousin/sister-in-law next time she saw her, which if Dany had her way, would be never, but alas....Sansa was a fervent proponent of anything that deigned to go against her warped ideals of a pro-Northern (which meant anti-Seven Kingdoms) world. If the prime Minister said it was a go, she was out there saying "no way."

In her current state, Dany grit her teeth against saying anything, but thankfully Jon barely spoke to her or his aunt. She fumed silently because not only would her life be at risk but the life of someone far defenseless than herself. Someone Sansa might like to meet one day and hopefully dote upon-- if it looked Northern of course. She suspected if it had her silver hair and Valyrian features, Sansa might wrinkle her nose a bit.

And Jon seriously had zero idea, even if she was sick every morning, had been tired more often than usual, and went through mood swings that were more violent than any storm off the Breakwater Bay. She loved him more for it, he just did what he could ot make her feel better, hugged and kissed her when she needed it and wisely left her alone when she was biting his head off for chopping all his pretty hair off or shaved some of his beard to check out a moustache look. Any grooming changes needed to be approved by her before he did a thing.

He even excitedly went for it when she said she wanted to get married in a private ceremony before they did anything big. Maybe they would do a big thing when things opened up, but for now, she wanted it private. They held a tiny little gathering in the Winterfell godswood, presided by his uncle as the head of household. They filed their necessary paperwork with the courts and were officially man and wife.

 _Mrs. Daenerys Targaryen Snow_ , she thought dreamily, getting a bit misty at the thought. They started off their time locked in their house as just being in a long-term relationship and then they were engaged and married and now...she sighed, smiling to herself.

The implications that Jon did not realize her weight gain was related to anything else kind of irritated her; she kept up her workouts, which were mostly yoga, Pilates, and the occasional run for cardio. He was the fiend, needing his endorphin boost every single morning from hours outside pounding pavement and then a couple hours with the weights. Not that she minded, she thought, observing his taut bottom as he shucked off his workout shorts.

"Hamper!" she shouted, seeing the black shorts sail to a corner with his sweaty t-shirt.

A mumbled "Sorry" and then the swish of the fabric hitting the ow empty hamper—she'd started laundry already—replied back. She rolled her eyes and watched him, licking her lips at his sweaty body, turning on the shower and fussing with his watch strap, setting it down on the shelf next to their oversized standup shower. She contemplated joining him, feeling considerably better than she had moments before.

Hormones, she blamed, pulling off her standard morning uniform—football jersey and panties. "Where'd you put the Blackwater box?" she asked, tugging her silver curls into a knot at the top of her head.

"On the table with the others."

"Well how am I supposed to get stuff if I can’t go to the store?"

"They've eased up Dany, you can go to the store."

She wrinkled her nose. "Not with these dumbasses claiming breathing problems from wearing a mask when doctors stand in them for twelve hours or so a day." She scoffed, thinking of the terrifying injuries Jon sustained when he was in the military, before he transitioned to his current position with the Night's Watch. "You were in surgery for almost 16 hours Jon! Your surgeons survived."

"And so did I."

"Thank gods," she said, taking a glance at her profile in the mirror, smirking. She went to the door, tugging it open and stepped inside, admiring his backside once more. She reached forward, squeezing the cheeks and he jumped, startled. She giggled. "Hello."

He rolled his eyes, shampoo in his hair. It was finally growing back out from his unfortunate attempts to trim it himself a month or so ago. "Why hello there, you should have told me you were joining." he frowned at her, glancing from her head to her toes, but said nothing. He closed his eyes, rinsing his hair. "So what'd you order now? You’re really getting the money out of your Blackwater Prime."

"Just something cute." She thought of the little onesie, giggling. It would look perfect in the announcement she and Missandei had designed, to send to everyone. But first she had to tell her husband. Since he was such an adorable idiot.

"More toys for Ghost? I think he's over them. Also, Drogon did not like the new bed, I found pieces of it in the study."

She scowled; her little dragon so independent to a point where she couldn't even dote on him properly. "Yes, he really took offense to it." Maybe getting him a bed in the shape of a banana was an affront to his sensibilities as a fearsome feline. She patted his stomach, rock hard and as tight as his butt. "You have been doing your ab workouts."

"Hmm." He glanced at her again but said nothing.

"I have been skipping."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She placed her hand on her stomach, but he turned away. She sighed, snorting loudly over the spray of the water. "Jon Snow!"

"Yes Dany Snow?"

"Will you say something about my weight gain?"

He laughed, taking the soap from the interior shelf. "I'm not falling for that one. I may only be married for a month, but I know a test when I see one."

"I'm not testing you!" Maybe she was. he passed on the sweet husband aspect of the test, but failed miserably on the others. She patted her belly. "You really don't notice?"

"Well...I mean...you can't bite my head off if I say anything. It is your body."

"The big shirts and the barfing every single day didn't clue you in?"

He shrugged. "Dany you've worn my shirts every single day for the last four months."

"And getting sick?"

"I don't know." Now he looked concerned. "Are you ill?" HIs eyes widened. "On no! Do you think you've got..."

She waved her hand. "No, I don't have the virus, but I have a certain flu."

Now he looked scared, standing there with wide gray eyes, stricken pale face even with the steamy water hitting them, and his shoulders slumped. "Oh...Dany...why are you telling me in the bloody shower!?"

"Because you won't comment on it otherwise!"

"And weight gain is part of it?" Now he looked scared. "What do you have? No, we need to have this talk outside." He moved to leave, nudging her, but she swung her small belly in the way of him, knocking into his stomach. He jumped back, staring down at her and she scowled, hands on hips, hair a wet tangle and water blinding her. He looked down at her again and then up.

It suddenly clicked, seeing her stark naked in the bright light from the bathroom, water falling over every single curve. He choked, stumbling against the wall. She giggled, reaching for his hands and brought them to her slick skin. "Surprise."

"Oh my gods."

"Jon Snow if you faint in this shower I will burn you alive!"

He began to giggle, strong arms sweeping her off her feet and into the air. She yelped, surprised, feet sliding on the wet tile a bit as he lifted her up. She tossed her arms around his neck, holding tight, his face buried into her neck. She giggled, laughing and pulling her face away long enough to turn to his, but he silenced anything she had to say, a searing kiss curling her toes up into the bottom of her feet.

When they finally finished kissing, she giggled again, nuzzling his nose. He had a dopey smile on his face, one hand free from around her waist to push her hair from her face. "I take it you are pleased? It wasn't planned."

"Dany this entire year has been one surprise after another, some good and some bad, and this is very, very good."

"I'm glad," she mumbled, kissing him again. Shed knocked off the water. "Come on, I have plans for you Jon Snow."

"Oh goodie."

~/~/~/~

"He seriously had no idea you were pregnant?"

"I am almost at five months now and that boy just thought I had been snacking too much in our quarantine. He didn't want to say anything in case it was weight gain and I would be sensitive about it."

"I don't know whether to be jealous or seriously concerned."

"I'm a bit of both."

Missandei laughed on the other end of their conference call, in the middle of trying out a new series of earrings and nose rings she'd ordered. She slipped a septum ring in with a ruby jewel on it, turning her face from side to side. "What do you think of this one with my purple dress?"

"Too ostentatious. I liked the silver one with the twist in it."

"Me too."

Dany opened up the Blackwater box, jumping on her toes, hands clapping. "Look, look, look, I ordered this for our announcement!"

"You're going to do one of those?"

"Yes, because I refuse to call anyone, you know I hate the phone and most of Jon's family."

"Very true, let's see it then." Missandei leaned forward, to see the object, and once she got a look at it, draped over Dany's belly, she let out a long, loud, high laugh, falling backwards in her chair and clapping her hands, rings glinting. "Oh my! Oh that is just perfect!"

Dany grinned. "I thought it was cute."

"Oh it's going to send his aunt through the roof."

"Probably, she's such a prude."

"I still cannot believe he had no idea."

"He's been busy, they're bringing everyone back to work and he had to work one of those stupid pro-Northern rallies, those dumbasses. Sansa was there." She rolled her eyes. "I think Jon contemplated arresting her just because. They'd make her wear a mask in jail after all."

Missy rolled her eyes; she was not a fan of Sansa, who was not only separatist but xenophobic and racist to boot. Got it from her mother, who detested anyone that wasn't a follower of the Faith of Seven, even if she lived in the North. "Well I think Arya might find it funny. You do know that Daario will be displeased, he still honestly thought it was just a phase, you moving North with your wolf instead of staying south with us."

She chuckled. "Yes well he can kiss my ass."

"Which looks marvelous in those leggings."

"Really?"

"Oh yes."

"I also ordered some maternity clothes." Dany was downright giddy at the aspect of wearing clothes specially designed for a growing belly, even if all she did was wear Jon's shirts. There were a pair of leggings she found that looked like shimmery dragon scales and they had a big band in the front to expand with her belly. She pulled them from another boxy, showing them off.

After a bit, Missy grinned, head on her hand. "You are so lucky. You've got a guy that doesn't want to comment on your weight gain, almost fainted in the shower when you told him you were knocked up, and he proposed to you when you were in your pajamas. I mean, geez."

"He brings me breakfast in bed when I still get queasy."

"Oh fuck off."

They giggled for a few minutes more, Dany assuring Missandei that her boyfriend Grey was just as sweet as Jon and way more observant "it's part of why you love him, he can see everything. It's also part of why I love Jon. he might be observant of slights and other things, but he's adorably clueless about pregnancy and whether I'm in love with him."

"He did think you just wanted to be friends for far longer than normal."

"Even when I was throwing myself at him. he was just being polite."

"He started at your chest way too much to just want to be friends."

"Oh yeah. Claimed I had a good heart."

"That's what they call it these days?"

After another hour of joking about their significant others and making a list of people to send the announcement to, Dany disconnected, and went to the mirror, studying her bump again, t-shirt pinned under her breasts. It truly did baffle her that her husband had no idea something was off. Weight gain in _just_ her stomach? And _only_ in her breasts? She was five foot nothing, she looked pregnant after eating a big meal most of the time. The baby had swollen most of her midsection, at almost five months it looked like she had a melon beneath her shirt.

She went over to her vanity, which she'd barely used in the past four months, rummaging in her dust filled drawer for the photograph strip the doctor gave her at her appointment. A large smile tugged on her lips at the sight of her baby. Jon had been beside himself. Once he came down to earth from the news, she told him of her appointment the following week and they went—masks on of course—the doctor had allowed Jon to be there because he was the father but beyond that no one else was allowed still.

The heartbeat was strong and steady, their baby the size of a cucumber. She still didn't feel anything yet, but her doctor told her that wasn't uncommon. Occasionally she thought she felt little flutters, but then she would burp and scowl at her belly, upset her child had teased her like tha.t She carried the picture to the Blackwater purchase, setting them together and clapped her hands, giddy.

After a few more minutes of getting ready, putting on a pair of leggings and an overlarge smock-like shirt that cinched around her belly and had a little tie in the back, she brought everything downstairs, finding Jon in their study with a book. She paused, staring at him for a moment. He was oblivious, eyes wide on the open pages, magnified behind his thick black plastic frame glasses. She reached slowly for her phone and held it up, framed him in the shot, and snapped.

The click of the phone's camera pulled him from his reading. He lifted the book. "Did you know that at full term thirty-nine weeks the baby is the size of a watermelon? And the cervix opening is only the size of bagel? That’s not right! You can't get a watermelon through a bagel!"

Her stomach flipped, queasiness returning. She took a deep breath; she had already had this freak-out and probably would have it again when she was in labor, so she set it aside. "Jon," she began.

"That's huge!"

"Jon."

"And look, it says here that the force of the contractions and passage through the birth canal can actually break your baby's collarbone! Their heads can get all pointed just from coming out!" He whimpered. “Because their heads are so soft! _How are their heads that soft!?_ ”

She clapped her hands in front of him and then ripped the book away before he could read anything else. "Jon, my sweet wolf, I Love you so much, I really do, but you cannot read this book."

He bent over her belly, head dropping to it, ear against her belly button. She rolled her eyes, sighing and dropped a hand to his hair. He stroked her side, whispering. "What did I do you Dany? This baby could have a triangle head."

"Did you get to the part where I might never be able to hold my pee again? Laughing, sneezing all that, whoops, bit of pee."

He gaped, mouth in horror. Drogon and ghost peered over from where they were in the midst of a staring contest, similarly disgusting. Or so she thought. She chuckled, patting Jon's face. "Yes, the things you did to me that I must endure for nine months and the rest of my life, and you got a few minutes of pleasure out of."

That wiped the horror from his face, fur ruffling. "More than a few minutes," he mumbled.

"I'm sure. You rocked my world. Oh baby, oh baby."

"Can I help you?" He sniffed, closing the book and reaching to push his glasses back up his nose. He frowned at her nice clothes. "Are we going somewhere?"

"We're taking pictures."

"For what?"

Dany grinned.

~/~/~/~

"I can't believe that's what you ordered."

"It's funny though isn't it?"

Jon chuckled, nuzzling her neck, hand draped possessively over her belly, which pressed to his stomach. "Just send it."

Dany smiled, hitting send on the mass text message to all the ones she loved. They had told in person his favorite cousin/sister Arya, who had been beside herself, and Missandei knew obviously. The rest they figured would be fun to surprise, especially since they’d only just done a wedding one. She didn’t have a social media, otherwise she would put it on there, even though Arya kept trying to force her to get a Squawk account or the picture one, Ravengram.

She set the phone down, muting it, and curled up against Jon, Ghost resting his head over her feet and Drogon purring contentedly on the couch behind her head. She closed her eyes, sighing, stretching out against him and his hand warmed her belly, where deep inside their baby fluttered around. She patted his hand with hers, whispering. “Breakfast in bed tomorrow?”

“Of course, we have all the time in the world.”

She smiled into his chest, nodding. “Just a few months of only us though. We should make the best of it.”

“You mean lay around doing nothing?”

“We won’t be able to do that again, at least just us.”

Jon chuckled, chest rumbling under her. She could hear his heartbeat quicken and a moment later, when he thought she was asleep, she heard his soft whisper: “I can’t wait.”

All she did was grin, ducking her head and fell to sleep.

**fin.**


End file.
